


Hailstorm

by thespeckledbandicoot



Category: haikyuu
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Meetings, M/M, Masturbation, Not really though, Voyeurism, sort of non-consensual voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-16 01:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8081716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespeckledbandicoot/pseuds/thespeckledbandicoot
Summary: Kenma had always preferred watching people over interacting with them. And when a new neighbor moves in across the street, he gets something that is definitely worth watching.





	1. A ray of light through the clouds

**Author's Note:**

> Hehehe, I uh... really wanted some BokuKen smut? So I wrote it? This is unbeta-ed and honestly a bit of mess. If you see any glaring errors, please feel free to point them out. Enjoy? The second chapter will be out by the end of the week.

Kozume Kenma liked to people watch. Watching people was easy. There was no need to speak or interact with them, only observe them, find out what made them work. When people didn’t know others were watching they were more honest, more open.

But this, he reasoned, was probably taking that too far.

Kenma’s apartment was nothing much, a small one bedroom affair in a quiet part of Tokyo. The living room and kitchen faced a neighboring building across a small alley, and from the living room there was access to a tiny cramped balcony, barely big enough for two people to sit on.

Kenma was a night owl, and he liked to relax on the balcony after the sun had set, playing his PSP or surfing aimlessly on his phone, sometimes taking his laptop out during a tech support shift.

The apartment directly across from his had belonged to a kind old lady named Kanna for a long time. Kenma rarely saw her, as she was usually long asleep before he ventured onto the balcony.

So it was to his mild surprise when he stepped into the cramped space on a cool September night and saw lights on in the neighboring building. He paused, one hand curled around a steaming cup of tea, and the other clutching his PSP.

The buildings didn’t quite line up, so the view directly across from Kenma’s balcony was just the brick wall between rooms, but slightly to the right was the neighboring living room, and to the left a bedroom.

Kanna had hung pale green floral curtains in every window, and the windows themselves were usually only left open enough for her tiny Scottish Fold to slip in and out. Now, all the curtains were gone and the windows were flung as wide as they would go. Kenma could hear faint rock music drifting from the open windows.

There are boxes stacked randomly in the living room, and Kenma can see a disassembled bed frame leaning against the wall and box spring and matress resting on the bare floors.

A door slammed somewhere in the other apartment and Kenma retreated hastily back through his window. He settled in on his couch instead, starting up his game and sipping dejectedly at his cooling tea. He was curious what happened to Kanna and aprehensive about this new neighbor. Kanna was quiet and kind, never pressing Kenma when she happened to be about.

He put it out of his mind for the time being, setting his tea down and beginning his game. It was a problem for another day.

 

Kenma would not admit that avoided his balcony for the next few days. He was busy, covering shifts for a friend and spending some time out and about visiting friends. It was after one of those days, a full day starting much earlier than Kenma preferred, spent in the shopping district with Shouyo, that he finally ventured outside again.

He had work to do, manning the chat support line for the IT firm he was employed by for a few hours. It was easy work mostly, he didn’t have to speak with people face to face or on the phone, and the usual clients were other IT workers, looking for support on systems in offices and businesses, so they knew what they were talking about.

Kenma mostly took the nighttime hours, when there were few calls. It was just past eleven pm when he carefully pushed his laptop, phone and a thermos of tea through the window onto his tiny table and crawled out sluggishly.

The lights in the apartment across the way were out, but he could see the blue glow of TV screen dimly illuminating the bedroom. He ignored that, settling into his weathered chair and logging into his work account. He didn’t really have anything to do until someone needed his help, so he turned up the chat notification sound and leaned back in his chair with his phone, scrolling idly through his Twitter feed.

He was halfway through his cup of tea and working on a perfect combo in Love Live when the notification ding finally went off. He pulled his laptop forward, greeting the client and getting down to business. After the first client he worked steadily for the next two hours, engrossed in product specifications and technical errors, the night slipping on quietly around him.

It was nearing one in the morning when he got a break and took it gladly, stretching his arms above his head and shaking out his fingers. As he resettled, he glanced at the neighboring building and felt all his breath leave him in a huff.

At some point during his work the lights in the living had flicked on and now, standing in the center of the brightly lit living room, shirtless, was the most attractive man Kenma had ever seen. He was just opening boxes and sorting through stuff but Kenma could not stop staring. He had odd white and black streaked hair that was falling in gentle waves around his face, an upturned almost button nose that should have looked odd paired with the strong jaw, but worked somehow.

And the muscles. Kenma vaguely registered his computer dinging at him, but it was background noise to the sight displayed before him. This man had biceps Kenma probably couldn’t circumvent using both his hands, broad strong shoulders, giving way to a muscled back and abs that looked like they were carved from marble, before leading to a trim waist, disappearing under the hemline of low slung sweat pants. Pants that did little to hide the strength of those thighs. Kenma’s face felt warm.

His computer dinged again and he finally dragged his eyes away from the attractive stranger, responding to the client. The other man didn’t seem to notice him hunched on his balcony at all, so he continued working, darting quick glances over every now and then to marvel at toned man gradually working his way through boxes of clothes and books and what seemed like an awful lot of athletic equipment.

Internally, Kenma scolded himself for being so creepy. This was exactly the kind of behavior he hated from nosy neighbors and yet here he was, giving delayed responses to every question asked while he ogled a someone completely unaware.

And yet he made no move to go inside, just kept typing away. During his last call of the night, the lights in the other apartment flipped off, the resident obviously not being quite as much of night owl as Kenma. The feeling in Kenma’s chest was simultaneously relief and disappointment. He finished up his call and signed off, logging his hours, then sitting just there in the relative quiet of the city night.

Over the next few weeks, Kenma saw an awful lot of his new neighbor, who seemed to think shirts were only for out of doors. Whether or not he was on his balcony, the apartment was clearly visible from his living room windows, and he quickly rediscovered the fact that the single narrow window in his kitchen lined up almost exactly with Buff Neighbor’s (as Kenma had come to think of him) bedroom window.

He nearly passed out when the first time he went into his kitchen to throw together something to eat ten pm, flicking on his light and casting a glance out the window on to be treated with the sight of glistening back muscles as Buff Neighbor dug in a drawer for a shirt, very obviously fresh out of the shower.

Hinata had laughed loud and long when Kenma told him about it. “It’s about time you got a new man in your life Kenma, why don’t you go introduce yourself!” Kenma had ignore that advice, for obvious reasons.

And really, why didn’t he have curtains yet? Any decent person would have put them up by now. He was either blissfully unaware of the show he was putting on for anyone who cared to glance outside, or he liked the attention.

Honestly the way the man strutted around, Kenma strongly suspected it was the latter. It was such a foreign idea to Kenma, to be so confident in yourself that you invited in the attention. He couldn’t grasp it. So he did he best to ignore the strange, enticing man, forcing down the obscene thoughts that arose when he lay in his bed at night, thinking of the small, yet uncrossable gap between them.

 

As time passed, Kenma came to know the man’s idiosyncracies. The type of music he listened to (awful), the TV shows he blasted late at night (sitcoms and reality shows, nothing else), that he took loud excitable conversations on his phone and with a revolving door of friends about anything and everything, and, perhaps more private than anything else, that sometimes he got frustrated to the point of tears, swearing loudly, then more quietly, then saying nothing at all as he sank to the floor in defeat.

He became a fixture in Kenma’s routine, much like Kanna had been, a constant presence. Kenma grew used to his cheers as he watched some of kind of sporting event, his slightly off key but not terrble singing, his rambling conversations.

And then it happened.

The night was like any other. Kenma had just finished a shift, and wandered into the kitchen to make some tea. It was just past one am, and he was using the light of his phone to see, not wanting to blind himself with the overhead lights.

He punched the power button on the electric kettle and fished out a tea bag, turning to grab a cup and feeling all the wind get knocked out of him as he glanced out the window.

The bedroom lights in the neighboring apartment were off, but the light from a laptop screen cast more than enough to see everything that was happening.

Buff Neighbor was sprawled on his bed, wearing boxers that had been shoved down onto those thick thighs, and a muscle shirt rucked up around his neck. He had one arm tucked behind his head, as the other reached down between his legs and stroked the most beautiful cock Kenma had ever laid eyes on.

Kenma’s breath was coming fast, heat was pooling in his groin, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. ‘This is wrong,’ He said to himself, ‘This is creepy and wrong.’ And yet he stood, eyes glued to tightening muscles, the flex of his neighbor’s forearms as he stroked himself, abs and chest flexing as he stared at his computer screen.

The breeze carried the faint sound of grunting through both open windows, and Kenma tried desperately to catch his breath.

Kenma stood rapt as the man’s breathing grew quicker, hand moving faster, as he spilled his release over that toned stomach. Kenma wanted nothing more than to lick it off. There was a moment of dead silence as the man breathed slowly, his entire body relaxing in the wake of orgasm.

Then Kenma’s kettle beeped shrilly, and the man jerked his head to the side, gazing through both darkened windows and meeting Kenma’s gaze, golden eyes wide and shocked. They locked eyes for what felt like an eternity. The man’s mouth open, words forming, accusations and disgusted outcries Kenma could already hear being hurled at him. So he did the only natural thing he could.

Kenma dropped his mug and fled.


	2. Downpour

For two weeks, Kenma did not look outside his apartment windows. The morning after the “incident” he closed every curtain and blind in every room, shrouding his home in darkness. 

He was being cowardly and he knew it. His neighbor hadn’t really seemed that upset, just shocked, but Kenma couldn’t handle whatever form of rejection and shame would come from that confrontation. His neighbor probably assumed that it was a genuine accident, a one time thing. Not that Kenma had been creepily watching him for weeks. 

Shouyou was, of course, no help at all. Not that Kenma told him exactly what had happened, but he had implied something personal.

“Ooooh Kenma! You’re skipping all the friendship steps and getting straight into it huh?” Kenma had flushed at the wiggling eyebrows. “But really. Maybe you should go over, apologize and properly introduce yourself? It can’t be as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

“I can’t just walk over there Shouyou. You know that.” Shouyou had just laughed and patted Kenma’s knee.

“I know Ken. I’m sure it will be back to normal soon. Now can I please open the window? I’m boiling in here.”

And Kenma had tackled the ginger boy as he reached for the curtain, ignoring the heated blush that colored his cheeks as Shouyou cackled delightedly, and instead offering to take him out for ice cream.

 

Kenma was perfectly content to spend the rest of the his life never opening his curtains again. He had given up the thought of ever seeing those delicious arms or beautiful shoulders again. 

Life had other plans.

He needed more juice. He had simply walked out to the corner store to get more apple juice, so he could have something to drink the next morning. While he was there he decided to stock up on instant noodles and, at the last second, grabbed some fruit so Shouyou wouldn’t yell at him about his terrible diet the next time he came over.

As he turned away from the fruit stand, he bumped into the person behind him, stepping on his own foot loosing his balance.

Before he could fall, a warm hand wrapped easily around his bicep and held him easily. Kenma looked up and gold met gold.

“Hey you ok- ah! I know you!” The man’s voice was deep and a little raspy, and Kenma could feel as the blood in his body rushing to his face as he stared up at his neighbor. He immediately tried to run, but the man’s strong hand was still wrapped around his arm.

“Hey hey hey, don’t run off! It’s okay.” The man was smiling warmly at Kenma, and all he could feel was guilt. And awe. He was even taller than Kenma had assumed, easily standing six inches over him. 

“Um… sorry… about,” Kenma started, gaze locked firmly on his shoelaces. “...uh everything?” He finishes lamely, face red and heart beat hammering. 

“Hey no worries, it was an accident right? I’m Bokuto by the way. Bokuto Koutarou.” Bokuto is still smiling, and Kenma feels like he is about to ascend. One person should not be able to look so good, so inviting, so kind. So damn hot. 

“Uh. Kenma. Kozume Kenma.” 

“Well, Kozume-kun, now that we’ve finally properly introduced ourselves, you have to come over for dinner! We should get to know each other.” 

“Oh uh, no I couldn’t impose-” Kenma said, shaking his head. 

“No, no, this whole thing is my fault, I made you uncomfortable. I uh…” Bokuto rubbed a hand on the back of neck, face sheepish. “I took a little long getting curtains and uh.. Never put them up? So allow me to properly apologize for being so inconsiderate!” 

“Um that’s really not-”

“So tomorrow night? You can come over at six, you’re usually home then right?” 

Kenma blinked. “Uh yeah, but-”

“Great, see you then! Oh, uh, my apartment is 3C! See you Kozume-kun!” Bokuto gave a little bow and breezed away.

Kenma put a hand to his chest, feeling his heart beat gradually slowing. It would seem Bokuto was just as vivid as he had seemed, when Kenma was watching from afar.

He finished his shopping trip feeling exhausted, but warm and happy.

 

At four pm the next day, Kenma called Shouyou in a panic. “What do I wear? What do I do? Should I take something? I shouldn’t go at all, should I?”

“Okay, first of all you should breathe. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you this worked up about anything in your entire life.” 

Kenma tried to obey, taking in a deep shuddering breath and exhaling slowly. 

“Better?” Kenma hums a response, still feeling nervous. “Okay, now; you should wear your dark red button down and those new skinny jeans you bought when we went shopping, they look super good on you. And, just take a bottle of wine or something, that’s a standard housewarming gift right? Don’t overthink it.” 

Kenma sighed. “Thanks Shouyou. You’re a lifesaver.”

Shouyou laughed, bright and happy. “I know, I know! And I expect all the juicy details as soon as you get home!” They said goodbye and Kenma set his phone down. 

Mild freak out over with, Kenma took a long shower, even using his fancy deep conditioner. He couldn’t do anything about the two inches of black showing at the roots, but by the time he was ready to get dressed, the gold was shining brightly and the black was soft and smooth.

He changed into the outfit Shouyou had recommended, nervously flattening the shirt in front of his mirror. It did make him look good, the dark wash of the jeans elongating his legs, and the shirt flattered his slim frame.

He wondered why exactly he was putting so much effort into it. It wasn’t a date. It was an apology dinner, even though Kenma really was the one who should be apologizing. He just wasn’t sure how to bring up the fact that he had been watching Bokuto for weeks without immediately getting the cops called on him and a restraining order placed.

He left his apartment before six, walking down to the corner store and picking up a bottle of white wine, hoping that it wouldn’t seem too forward. He declined the gift ribbon the store offered.

All too soon he stood in front of a weathere door with 3C painted just above the peephole. He raised a hand, took a deep breathe, and knocked quickly before he lost his nerve. 

There was a clatter of many small metallic things from within the apartment, like someone had dropped a handful of silverware. Kenma tried not to be alarmed, taking a small step back just as the door flew open. 

It took him a lot of effort not to start drooling as soon as the door opened. Bokuto was wearing a dark grey button down, with short sleeves, that accentuated his broad shoulder and those biceps. It was neatly tucked into a pair of cuffed dark tan chinos, showing off his trim waste and powerful thighs. 

“Kozume! You made it, welcome, come on in!” He stepped aside with a flourish to allow Kenma in. Kenma stepped inside, toeing off his shoes quickly. 

“I um, I brought wine, I wasn’ sure…” He trailed off, holding the bottle out to Bokuto.

“Ah, perfect! I’m pretty sure I just have beer and sports drinks so this is great. You can have a seat at the table there, every is just about done!” Bokuto plucked the bottle from Kenma’s hand and gesturing to an already set traditional table. 

Kenma tried not to stare around too much. It wasn’t like he’d never seen the rooms before, but it was different being in them. From here he could read the titles of the books and movies on the bookshelf. There was a decent variety, but the overwhelming majority were documentaries of all kinds. Nature, sports, historical… That was interesting.

Kenma hovered near the table, finally kneeling and tucking his hands under legs so he would stop fidgeting. He heard a bit more clanging around in the kitchen. “Do you um, do you need any help?” He asked cautiously. 

“Nope!” Bokuto called back, emerging from the kitchen at that moment. He was carrying a cast iron pot on top of a small electric skillet and he set it down in the center of the table with a flourish. “I uh, hope you like sukiyaki? I mean, there’s a bit of everything, so you know there should be something you like right?” Bokuto seemed to all at once feels all the nerves Kenma had been fighting all day. Normally other people panicking just made Kenma panic more. 

But something about the earnest way Bokuto was looking for his approval combined with the appetizing smell of the hot pot put Kenma at ease. He smiled instead, small but genuine. “It smells delicious,” he said. 

Bokuto’s smile in return was heartwarming and Kenma could not believe he was real. No one, not one person had the right to be so adorable. 

They settled at the table to eat, and the food was absolutely as delicious as it looked. Kenma had been worried about not having anything to talk about, but Bokuto filled the silences easily, talking about himself and his hobbies and accepting short answers to the various questions he asked Kenma about himself. 

They actually had a lot in common, enjoying the same type of TV shows and movies, and they spent an easy twenty minutes discussing a sci-fi series they had both recently finished.

The conversation finally came around to jobs- “What do you do?” Kenma had asked after Bokuto mentioned having to traveling for work. 

“Ah! I’m sports journalist. I used to play volleyball professionally, but I tore my rotator cuff. I went back for awhile after my recovery, but it wasn’t the same. Now I get to share my love with everyone!” Bokuto’s gesture and laugh were both full-hearted. “What about you Kozume-kun?”

“Just call me Kenma. I’m an IT Specialist. I work an online support line.”

“Ah so that’s what you’re always doing on your laptop out there!” 

Kenma’s nodding, in the middle of chewing on a tasty bite of mushroom, when he freezes. “You’ve seen me on the balcony?”

“Well yeah. You’re out there a lot. Why do you think I spent so much time in my living room? You’re pretty cute when you’re all frowny. And embarassed.” 

Kenma’s face feels warm. “So… you knew I was watching you?” 

Bokuto laughs again. “I mean, it was pretty obvious. I mean, at first I just thought you were curious about your new neighbor, you know the usual? But then I noticed your typing always slowed down whenever I wasn’t wearing a shirt, so I might have… started showing off?” He rubs a hand nervously behind his neck. “I guess, uh, I guess that sounds kind weird when I say it out loud huh? Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned… it…”

He trailed off, because Kenma had stood, hands clenched at his sides. 

“Ah Kozume-kun I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can leave if you want, sor...ry?”

Kenma took one step sideways, out from his side of the table, and another one forward to put him direclty beside Bokuto, still kneeling at his place. He reached out a hand, slowly, unsurely, and ran it gently through Bokuto’s spiked locks. He could feel the gel, but he also feel the softness of the strands.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I saw you,” He admits, quietly, bringing the other hand up to run through two-toned hair.

There’s an intensity in Bokuto’s amber eyes, turning them into twins pits of molten gold. “So innocent Kozume-kun. The way you stared, I figured you wanted to have your wicked way with me.”

“I think I’d rather you take the helm on that.” Kenma answers, and it’s all the permission Bokuto needs to surge up and meet him in a searing kiss. Bokuto is still on his knees, but he’s tall enough that Kenma only has to bend a little, hands still fixed in the other’s hair.

Bokuto’s hand are on Kenma’s back, pulling him close as they kiss, open and wet. They trailed down, carressing his back and then cupping his ass as he squeezed Kenma close, teeth and tongues mixing. 

They tried to lean into each other more and almost topple over as Bokuto is much heavier than Kenma could support. 

“Do you want, um, I don’t want to be too forward, but maybe we could… bedroom?” Bokuto looked sinful and adorable, hair falling in his face as he asked nervously, but that fire was still in his eyes and it promised to devour Kenma whole if he would it.

And how he wanted to let it.

“Bedroom is good.” Kenma agreed, leaning in for another kiss. Bokuto met him eagerly and the hands that were massaging his ass, slid slightly lowerly as Bokuto unfolded himself properly from the table. Then he wrapped them under Kenma’s thighs and lifted him up as though he weighed nothing. 

Kenma gasped into Bokuto’s mouth, legs wrapping instintctively around the other’s waist as Bokuto stood, holding his weight easily. He chuckled at Kenma’s reaction, holding the smaller man firmly against him. 

“Shall we?” He muttered, breaking away from Kenma’s mouth to nose underneath his ear, breathe hot and warm against the sensitive skin of Kenma’s throat. Kenma moaned in response, feeling like all the blood in his brain had just shot south.

Bokuto started walking and Kenma used the moment to trail his hands all over those delicious shoulders and down thick biceps, flexing slightly with every step. 

He huffed a breath as his back was pressed roughly against the wall next to Bokuto’s bedroom door, but his aggravation was short lived as Bokuto sealed his entire body against Kenma’s and slid his tongue back into mouth.

His warmth covered Kenma head to toe and the angle pressed Kenma’s already fully hard dick right up against Bokuto’s equally hard member. He rutted down, and felt Bokuto’s entire body shiver in response. 

“You.. are evil.” Bokuto broke away, panting hotly against neck, breath tickling the sensitive skin under his ear.

“I bet I could do a lot more if we weren’t still wearing these clothes,” Kenma said, tongue trailing around the shell of Bokuto’s ear, his voice barely above a whisper. Bokuto moaned, and nipped at Kenma’s pulse point, earning a sharp gasp and another little frantic rut. “Come on,” Kenma urged, and Bokuto needed no more persuasion.

He switched all of Kenma’s weight to his left arm, throwing open his bedroom door with the right and wasting no time in dropping Kenma in the center of the king-sized bed. Kenma couldn’t even be upset about the rough treatment because, for one thing, he absolutely loved it, and for another, Bokuto crawling over him in the bed mere seconds after dropping him was easily the hottest thing he’d ever witnessed in his entire life.  
Bokuto’s hands went straight to the bottom of Kenma’s shirt, pushing it up and away as his mouth came down, kissing the crease of Kenma’s hip. He sucked on the skin there briefly as Kenma panted and tossed, holding down his hips as he tried valiantly to find some contact. His right soon trailed up, unbottoning from the bottom up, as Bokuto switched sides, leaving behind a deep mark.

As soon as Kenma’s shirt was unbuttoned, he sat up shrugging it off his shoulders. When Bokuto glanced up, Kenma waited until he had his full attention. Then he pushed Bokuto gently back on his heels, and unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them and his boxers down in one swift motion, leaving him completely naked in Bokuto’s bed.

“You are wearing too many clothes,” He said, casually, one hand reaching down to stroke his cock, hard and dripping already.

Bokuto swore, and Kenma had never seen anybody go from fully clothed to entirely naked quite so quickly. God he was glorious naked, abs and pecs heaving, thighs trembling, well-sized cock standing erect, flushed and ready.

Bokuto allowed Kenma a moment to fully appreciate his physique, seeming to preen under the attention. “Like what you see?” He asked, daring to flex.

“If I hadn’t I suppose we wouldn’t be here, would we?” Kenma asked, one eyebrow raised. “Lay on your back.” Bokuto was quick to obey, laying down in the spot Kenma gestured to, and letting his hands carress soft flesh as Kenma moved to straddle him. 

Kenma was careful to line their cocks up, enjoying the visual of his laying just atop Bokuto’s larger member, before he leaned down, grinding them together as he licked a stripe up the divots of Bokuto’s abs. 

Bokuto moaned at the sensation, head falling back and hands reaching out to grab Kenma’s hips, holding him in place and he continued grinding upwards. Kenma let him, tongue trailing over the taut muscles beneath him, working his way up to one nipple and then over to the other, biting and nipping and sucking as he went. 

But as nice as this was, he wanted to get on to the main event. “Lube, condom?” He asked, voice low and soft as he kissed his way up to Bokuto’s Adam’s apple.

Through his pants and moans, Bokuto managed to gesture to the bed side table, and Kenma quickly rolled over to it, ignoring the soft cry of dismay as his body heat left Bokuto’s. He grabbed a foil wrapped condom and the small bottle of personal lubricant, dropping the condom inelegantly on Bokuto’s stomach as he squeezed some of the slippery liquid onto his fingers.

“Who-” Bokuto started but was silenced as Kenma rose up on his knees over him and slid not just one, but two fingers into his entrance easily. “-ooohhhh fuck.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away as Kenma efficiently scissored his fingers, adding third without much trouble.

“You’ve done this a lot.” Bokuto’s voice was low and raspy, and it only made Kenma hotter. 

“I’ve had good inspiration the last few weeks,” Kenma said, his own voice rough and broken as he worked. He took a moment to press against his prostate and watched Bokuto’s face as he let out a loud moan at the feeling.

“Condom,” He ground out, still massaging inside himself, and Bokuto got the hint, tearing open the packet and rolling the condom over his dripping cock. He quickly lubed up his dick, stroking it as Kenma withdrew his fingers and hovered over him, before gently lowering himself onto Bokuto.

The stretch was impressive, Kenma’s efforts still not quite preparing him for Bokuto’s ample anatomy, but he adjusted quickly. 

Bokuto’s thighs were trembling, hips stuttering in little aborted thrusts as Kenma sank down onto him. “Fuuuck Kenma, you feel so good, fuck, fuck,” Bokuto muttered as Kenma bottomed out, shifting slightly to get used to the burn. 

Bokuto’s hands were hovering above Kenma’s waist, not quite sure if he could grab on. Kenma rested his hands on sculpted abs, and raised himself up slowly, then slid back down just as slowly. Bokuto’s fists were closing and open as he tried to restrain himself. Kenma repeated the motion, once, twice, and then leaned down to kiss Bokuto’s open, panting mouth. 

“Fuck me Koutarou,” He whispered. Bokuto whimpered, abrupt and needy, then his hands gripped Kenma’s hips, hard enough to bruise as he lifted the smaller man’s weight easily, all but dropping Kenma back onto his dick, his own hips raising to meet the blonde’s in an frantic pace. 

Kenma let it happen, loving being man-handled, loving the strength in those arms and legs that could toss him around like a doll. He shifted, rolling his hips as Bokuto thrust, and Bokuto’s next thrust hit his prostrate directly. Kenma shouted, back arching and hips jerking wildly, as the pleasure spiked through him. 

Bokuto grinned, looking thorougly debauched. “That’s the spot huh? I can work with that.” He adjusted his grip slightly, and then every single thrust was striking Kenma’s prostate, and the pleasure was growing, quickly building to a peak. Kenma pushed back, trying desperately to hold himself off, but one, two, three more thrusts, and he was falling over the edge, spilling his release all over Bokuto’s toned stomach. 

“Fuck, fuck, Kenma-” Bokuto threw his head back, hips stuttering as he rapidly approached his own release. Kenma dragged him into a kiss, sloppy and wet, and ground back into each thrust, pleasure quickly morphing into overwhelming sensitivity, but Bokuto was so close, so close-

And then he was coming with a shout, fingers white where they gripped Kenma’s thighs, long neck on display, covering with little bites and marks from Kenma’s sharp teeth. 

They lay there like that for a moment, panting and sweating, before Kenma gently moved off of Bokuto, allowing the other man to remove and tie off the used condom, tossing it in the trash quickly. A quick question and Kenma disappeared into the master bath, returning with a warm wet wash cloth and wiping down Bokuto’s soiled stomach. He maybe spent a bit too much time running the cloth through every crease and fold of muscle, but Bokuto didn’t complain so he didn’t think too much of it.

Then he tossed the cloth into the hamper in the corner and settled in next to Bokuto, a respectable amount of space between them.

“Hey, hey, what’s this? C’mere,” Bokuto’s voice was rough, and sleepiness was already creeping in. He raised an arm, gesturing at Kenma sluggishly. Kenma rolled his eyes. 

“I didn’t take you for a cuddler,” He admitted, crawling in the offered space, warm and feeling a bit tired himself. He rested his on Bokuto’s chest, feeling extraordinarily secure under Bokuto’s arm. 

“You shouldn’t-” Bokuto broke into a yawn, “Judge a book by it’s muscles Kozume…” He was drifting. “Hey, do you like-” another yawn, “Frozen yogurt?”

Kenma hummed an affirmative. “There’s a new place a couple blocks over, we should… we should go…” Bokuto was asleep before Kenma could say yes. Oh well, he’d tell him when they woke up.

Kenma smiled and snuggled closer. This wasn’t at all what he had expected when the new neighbor moved in weeks ago, but it was certainly better than he could have ever hoped. He left himself drift off, lulled by the gentle sound of Bokuto’s breathing, deep and steady.

 

 

Bonus:

“Hey, your neighbor still hasn’t put up curtains? How’d things go with the dinner by the way?” Hinata bounded around the apartment, all sunshine and energy.

Kenma just shrugged. “We’re going out again. Saturday. I like him.” 

“Ah Kenma that’s so exciting! Hey, what’s he doing? Is he in his underwear? That looks like a yoga mat.”

“KOUTAROU.”

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. Um. I'm on tumblr [here](powersuitup.tumblr.com) and this will be posted on my writing blog [here.](thespeckledbandicoot.tumblr.com) Eventually.


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